


Alleyways and Payphone Calls

by Traincat



Series: Just Married [2]
Category: Fantastic Four (Comicverse), Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 14:12:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5294249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traincat/pseuds/Traincat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Alright, New York," he called out, swinging past 8th Ave and throwing in some extra acrobatics for the hell of it. "It's a beautiful morning, I'm halfway home - don't ruin this for me." </p><p>--</p><p>Peter, Johnny and an old apartment. Set a few months after Say You Will, Say You Won't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alleyways and Payphone Calls

**Author's Note:**

> "Traincat do you just have a thing for Peter Parker's proportional spider strength."  
> Hahaha. Ha. Yes.
> 
> Posted months ago on tumblr in reply to an anonymous ask, but I felt like sprucing it up, adding onto it a little and putting it up here too! Title from Home by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros:  
> Moats and boats, and waterfalls,  
> Alleyways, and payphone calls  
> I been everywhere with you (that's true)

Peter swung out with a loud yell, everything brighter and better than it had seemed in a while. The sky was blue, the air was crisp and the spark in his chest was one he hadn't felt in a while. God, he'd forgotten how good it could be.

"Alright, New York," he called out, swinging past 8th Ave and throwing in some extra acrobatics for the hell of it. "It's a beautiful morning, I'm halfway home - don't ruin this for me."

Slow morning after a long night - he made it back without having to crash so much as a mugging. Maybe the good mood was just in the air. He shimmied into the Baxter Building the old way, feeling a little nostalgic - first time he'd ever seen Johnny face-to-masked face. So what if he'd spent the rest of that first day seething? It was still a nice memory in hindsight.

"We do have a door, y'know," Ben said, coming down the hall in a robe and slippers, newspaper tucked under his arm. "Wouldn't kill ya to use it."

"I like my way just fine," Peter said.

"Breakfast, Peter?" Sue called from the kitchen. She was sliding plates in front of the kids while Reed poured the coffee. Ben harrumphed at something in the paper, pulling out his usual chair.

"Love some," he said, jogging into the room. He swung Sue into his arms and twirled her around, dipping her when she gave a surprised laugh. "Morning, Fantastics."

"What's gotten into you?" Sue asked when he pulled her to her feet. "Not that I'm complaining. Reminds me of a beach a couple years ago."

"Oh no," he said. She grinned and Reed snorted, stretching out a hand to offer Peter a Dog Cops mug full of coffee.

"The webbed heart was a sweet touch," she said.

"Yeah, yeah, pick on the Spider-Man, I know how this one goes," Peter said, reaching out to ruffle Franklin's hair. He heard footsteps in the hall and pitched his voice in that direction. "Where's Burning Man? Still snoring?"

"I don't snore," Johnny said, appearing in the doorway. He glared blearily at Peter. "Is that any way to talk about the man you married?"

"Light of my life," Peter said to him, fluttering his eyelashes. His free hand fell automatically to Johnny's waist, the thin white tank he wore no match for the familiar warmth of his skin. "The fire in my hearth. Sugar in my coffee?"

"Was that a hint?" Johnny asked, eyes dropping to Peter's mug. "What's wrong with you?"

"Beautiful morning, beautiful husband," Peter said as Johnny rolled his eyes. "Why wouldn't I be happy?"

"Oh god," Johnny said. "You're a morning person. I never would've gone through with it if I'd known you were a morning person."

"Yep, you're stuck with me now," Peter said, savoring the bright, tight feeling in chest as Johnny checked to make sure the kids weren't watching before he flipped him off. It warmed him straight through, this spark - and with Johnny, everything was fireworks. Had been when they were dumb kids squabbling over supervillains, was now with the ring a warm weight around his finger.

"Didn't hear you come to bed," Johnny said around a yawn. "When'd you get in?"

"Five minutes ago," Peter said, downing half his coffee in one go. He plucked at his costume. "Hence the webs. So not so much a morning person as a really, really late night owl."

Johnny grabbed his cup out of his hand. "Yeah, no, no more of that. You're pretty much loopy."

"Loopy for you," Peter countered, which, okay, might have just been making Johnny's point for him.

"Okay, you're cut off," Johnny groaned, face in his hands, smile crooked the way he got sometimes, like he didn't quite believe what Peter was saying but liked hearing it anyway. "Go to bed already."

"Only because the room is a little spinny," Peter said. He leaned across the table to kiss that look off Johnny's face, ignoring Franklin's groan of disgust. "See you later?"

"Sure," Johnny said, tweaking the collar of Peter's costume.

In the hall, he heard Val say, "I think I liked it better when he didn't know," and Johnny reply, "I don't have to take love advice from a little lady in a booster seat," and he smiled to himself.

Definitely a good morning.

 

* * *

 

"Reed's got a thing tomorrow he wants us at," Johnny said when Peter emerged from the bedroom a few hours later. "You got a suit? Not the one you wore when we got hitched, people'll recognize that."

"Sure," Peter said, stretching his arms high above his head. Johnny's mattress was a minor miracle worker - it was almost like he'd never been tossed across half of New York at all.

"Follow up question," Johnny said. "Was it worn by generations of Parkers before you?"

"It's a nice suit!" Peter said.

"Was it made before the swinging sixties?" Johnny asked. "Did your great great grandmother cry when the honorable Zebediah Parker met her at the docks wearing it?"

"It's new!" Peter thought back. "It's new-ish."

"I'll be the judge of that," Johnny said. "Go, fetch. I'll steel myself for purple bell bottoms."

"One time," Peter said. "Anyway, I think it's back at my place."

"Oh," Johnny said. Peter waited, but that was apparently it.

"I can go get it now," Peter said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. "I'm sure it's fine. I only found a dead moth in the pocket one time."

Johnny snorted but didn't look any happier. Human Torch, running hot and cold - go figure, but Johnny got quiet sometimes. A little distant when Peter started teasing, and then a little too sincere. "If you change your mind," he kept saying, as if the idea of divorcing Johnny didn't leave Peter with a bitter taste in his mouth. It was totally at odds with the way Johnny had traced his fingertip down Peter's nose the other night, over the slight bump where it had healed wrong once when he'd been young and too stupid to get it set immediately, or the way he slung his arm over Peter's shoulders every chance he got, leaning into him.

Peter knew how Johnny felt about him now. He just hoped Johnny knew how he felt too.

"Hey," Peter said. "It's a nice day. Why don't you come with me?"

Johnny tilted his head to the side, considering. "Can I drive?"

"Uh, no," Peter said. "We'll take the subway, like the normal people do. But you can tell any neighbors we see about how we met when you dramatically whisked me from a burning building." Johnny waved one hand, _go on._ Peter heaved a sigh. "You can tell them I burned the building down making toast."

"I like it," Johnny said, getting up. "It's got pathos."

 

* * *

 

"I'm honestly disappointed," Johnny said for the third time since they'd left Peter's apartment.

"I said it was a normal suit," Peter said.

"Yeah, but I think I just built it up in my head," Johnny said. "At the end I was hoping for paisley. I hate the tie, though. Lose it."

"What's wrong with the tie?" Peter asked.

"If you have to ask..." Johnny said.

"I like the tie," Peter said. Johnny raised his eyebrows, eyes flicking up and down over Peter.

"You would," he said simply and Peter snorted. "Your place looked the same. All the dents were exactly where I remember them."

"It took me twenty minutes to lose my security deposit, it's true," Peter said as they crossed the Baxter Building's lobby. "Rent's gone up though. Gotta love New York."

A shadow passed over Johnny's face as they got into the elevator and as soon as the doors closed he asked, "Why do you even keep it? You're never there -"

"I'm there all the time!" Peter said. "I was just there!"

"And you said rent's gone up and I'm pretty sure I saw the spider version of Galactus in your bathroom -"

"First, she has a name, it's Webirella, and she's practically family - Johnny, what's going on?"

"And your shower has no pressure, you're constantly complaining about that, and you're here," Johnny said. "You're here all the time. We've got more closet space than Reed can cram into alternate dimensions but you've got all your stuff over there. And you - you sleep here, Pete."

Peter blinked, at a loss for words. "I like my apartment, Johnny."

Johnny sagged back against the wall, hands in his pockets. "Yeah. I know you do."

"You've never had a problem with it before," Peter said. Johnny shrugged.

"I just don't see the point," he said. "Come on. My stuff's too flashy for you but we'll go see what Reed's got in the boring tie department."

The doors opened before them with a ding. Something clicked in the back of Peter's head.

"Hang on a sec," he said, slamming his palm against the hold button. Before Johnny could react Peter had shouldered his bag and snagged him around the waist, reeling him in close as he dropped to get an arm under his knees.

"What are you doing?" Johnny said, elbowing him in the ribs. "Wait, are you - are you trying to _carry me over the threshold_?"

There was a tone of voice Peter had gotten pretty familiar with over the past few years, usually accompanied by a fire show, and Johnny was getting pretty close to it. He froze, mostly out of self-preservation, halfway to lifting Johnny off the ground.

"Uh. Yes?"

"You're - why?" Johnny was looking at him like he couldn't quite figure him out, and also a little like he might try and elbow him again. Peter hoped against that second one. "We've been married for three months!"

"Because I didn't do it the first time?" Peter said. He'd thought about it, that split-second when they'd first rushed back to the Baxter Building, trying to get photographed just enough but not too much. Johnny laughing, bright and golden and like the good old days, before anything had ever touched him - Peter had looked at him, and it had seemed fun, the idea that he could easily swing Johnny up in his arms. He still remembered the itch in his fingers. But then Johnny had waltzed into the building ahead of him and the moment had been gone. He owned up to it, more to avoid a fireball to the face than anything else: "I wanted to."

Maybe he'd thought it was funny back then. It didn't seem particularly funny now.

Johnny sucked in a breath. He grabbed a fistful of Peter's collar and pulled hard, crashing their mouths together. Peter spared one, brief moment to be thankful for his perfect balance, the only thing saving them from falling to the floor one huge pile of limbs, before he surrendered to the unrelenting press of Johnny's warm mouth against his own.

"Okay," Johnny said when he broke away, breathing hard. He went limp, heaving a dramatic sigh. "Don't forget to lift with your knees."

"Be easier if you lost a few," Peter joked, biting back a grin when Johnny yelped indignantly.

"I've seen you lift a car over your head!" he said, and it was true: swinging lean Johnny up into his arms was easy, his weight negligible. Johnny wound his arms around Peter's neck and started to hum a wedding march. "If you're doing this so you can knock my head into the doorway, you're a dead man."

"I would never," Peter said, then cast a meaningful look at the door frame. Johnny's grip became a stranglehold. "Alright, alright, c'mon - this is supposed to be a nice moment! Something to tell the grandmoloids about!"

"Oh god you're going to drop me," Johnny said. "I'm going to be a widower."

One easy step over the threshold. He didn't drop Johnny, despite the urge - instead he swung him higher and sealed their lips together. Johnny dug his fingers into Peter's shoulders, sighing against his mouth. He was smiling by the time they broke away.

"And they said we wouldn't last," Peter said, just to watch that last bit of hesitation leave Johnny's smile.

"Eh, what does Rolling Stone know anyway?" he said, nipping at Peter's bottom lip, one warm palm around the back of his neck. God, the feeling in Peter's chest was so good, like that first moment of webslinging when his feet left the ground. Peter could have stood there forever, just him and Johnny.

"Move it, love birds, you're holding up traffic."

Peter looked up and nearly swung Johnny into Ben. Johnny yelped, hold on him becoming a death grip, and Peter tilted dangerously to the side.

Ben narrowed his eyes, looking spectacularly unimpressed. He had moloids on one shoulder, Franklin on the other and Bentley under one arm.

"Out of the way," he said. "We got a date to meet Alicia at the park."

Peter shuffled out of the way and nodded obligingly towards the elevator. Johnny, meanwhile, decided to be his usual self.

"Don't let it hit you on the way out - your rocky butt might break it."

Ben grumbled something under the breath about being the bigger man in front of the rugrats, herding the kids into the elevator while Turg floated happily along behind them. Bentley locked his gaze with Peter's and narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Later, strong man," he said, eyebrows raised as high as they could go, watching as Peter set Johnny back on the ground. The doors slid shut with just enough time for him to gesture _I'm watching you._

"That kid's gonna be the envy of my rogue's gallery someday," Peter predicted, one arm still around Johnny's waist. Johnny didn't seem in any hurry to move, pressing himself up closer. "What was Ben's deal?"

"Eh," Johnny said, shrugging. "He's probably just jealous you're better at the whole threshold thing."

"Yeah," Peter said, momentarily distracted by Johnny's soft lips trailing up his cheek, the scratch of his stubble. "Wait. Are you saying --"

"What happens out by Alpha Centauri stays out by Alpha Centauri," Johnny said.

"I don't believe you. I'm asking Sue," Peter said. "She'll tell me the truth."

"Sure she will," Johnny said blithely, grabbing Peter's bag. "Come on before I burn that tie."

Peter was going to wake up in the night and that tie was going to be embers. He let Johnny pull him along anyway, and when they were in the living room he squeezed his fingers. Johnny glanced at him over his shoulder, eyebrows raised.

"You're right," Peter said. "I sleep here."

"I got that from all the blanket stealing," Johnny snorted.

"I don't steal the blankets," Peter said. "And that tie is fine, too. But I'm serious. Listen - I like my apartment. It's comfortable. I'm used to it. There's stuff in the back of that closet I haven't touched since I moved in and honestly I'm scared to move it. But I sleep here."

Johnny stared at him, looking a little lost. Peter grabbed his hand and pressed it up against his chest, over his heart.

"So you don't have to worry," he said, raising his voice when Johnny looked ready to argue. "I keep my crappy apartment because I like it. Not because I want a convenient way out. Besides - you know where I live."

Johnny rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched, almost a smile. Peter tangled their fingers together and squeezed.

"Talk to me, Torch," he said.

"You steal all the blankets and you have no taste, but luckily I'm willing to live with it," Johnny said, and toppled them both over onto the sofa. "What are you laughing about?"

"Beautiful day, weird husband," Peter said, propping himself up on his elbows over Johnny. "I do sleep here."

Johnny's face softened, his smile warmed. He reached up to drag a thumb over Peter's left eyebrow, smile crooked. "I love you but you still have to pick a different tie."

"It was worth a try," Peter said, dropping back on top of Johnny.

 

* * *

 

"I honestly don't see how this is better than mine," Peter whispered, tugging at his tie. Up on stage Reed was being devastatingly intelligent, but the perks of being Mr. Fantastic's new brother-in-law meant Peter had heard his speech hours before.

("You're not going to close with a joke, huh?" Peter had teased when Reed asked for suggestions, only for Franklin and Val to turn identical looks of dismay on him.

"Dad's not allowed to do that again," Val said. "Ever.")

"It doesn't matter," Johnny said, flicking at his knuckles until he left the tie alone. "I see the difference, and it's a massive improvement."

"Were you born like this or did the cosmic rays scramble your brain?" Peter asked. Johnny's hand landed on his knee, then very slowly traveled upwards, the look on his face sly. Peter took a sip of water and tried not to choke when Johnny scraped his nails down his inseam.

Peter grabbed his wrist to hold him still, but didn't actually remove his hand. Johnny's smirk spoke volumes.

"Hey," he said, leaning in to whisper in Peter's ear. "Wanna make out by coat check?"

"Yes, but not as much as I want to make it through the evening without any force fields," Peter said.

Across the table Sue raised her eyebrows in their direction. Johnny wiggled the fingers of the hand not currently busy molesting Peter at her.

"Whisper quieter," she said to them, turning back towards the stage. 

Johnny's head met Peter's shoulder for one moment, the huff of his breath warmer than usual. Peter was getting a hang of the details - the split-second spike in Johnny's temperature when he was annoyed, the way he always boiled his own coffee past the scalding point as soon as he had his hands around the mug. A handful of little things he felt like he should have known before.

"You know years ago I imagined this differently," he said. "There was an island and a lot less clothing involved. Reed definitely wasn't talking about our responsibilities towards the future."

"You wanna get out of here?" Peter asked, flicking his gaze up to the stage. Reed was winding down - actually, Reed was telling a joke. Or trying to, anyway. No wonder Val had been so adamant. "Ouch."

"Oh, yeah, it's going to get brutal," Johnny said. "Where do you want to go?"

Reed's punchline had Sue reaching for her wine glass. Peter applauded out of a sense of responsibility.

"My place?" he said. The look Johnny slid him said he wasn't being funny. "Just listen - so you hate it, and there's no water pressure and there's that thing the oven does that I should probably get checked -"

"You're really great at this, you know that, Pete?" Johnny said. "You should sell used cars."

"But we'd be alone," Peter said. He leaned back in his chair and watched the wheels turn. "For as long as we want."

Johnny thought about it for a moment, then huffed a laugh. "You just want to carry me over another threshold, don't you."

"Ben interrupted me," Peter said, grinning. "I was being a romantic."

"You're a show off," Johnny said.

"That's the plan," Peter said. "Sweep you off your feet and let my doorman know what I've got. If I had a doorman, anyway. C'mon. Overdue honeymoon. I have the Paris of cheap takeout menu drawers."

Johnny's smile was softly lit by the overhead lights. "I'm going to complain the whole time."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Peter said, tapping a beat against Johnny's wedding ring.


End file.
